


sugar sweet

by ceraunos



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-31 10:15:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20113453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceraunos/pseuds/ceraunos
Summary: It’s James’ birthday. There’s a cake.





	sugar sweet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zwergenmaedchen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zwergenmaedchen/gifts).

> V fluffy fluff, a late birthday present for the wonderful zwergenmaedchen xx

Halfway till morning, when the sky is still fading to pale silver and last night’s storm is only just over the mountain side, James turns to find Thomas watching him, propped up on one elbow. There’s an open book on the sheets at their feet, a candle burning to its stub on the dresser. James presses closer until they’re chest to chest, leaning his head against Thomas’ forearm. They stay like that, lapsing in half sleep, for a long time, almost until the birds are ready to start singing. 

‘Couldn’t sleep?’ James murmurs. 

‘Did I wake you?’ 

‘No.’

‘It’s hot already,’ Thomas says, kicking the sheets down to twist around their ankles as if for emphasis. James tucks himself impossibly closer and feels Thomas’ palm splay across his back. 

‘It’ll storm again later.’ 

The lightning had cracked through the sky, lighting it up for hours as if gods themselves were hurling spears across the stars. Even when the rain had started, though, boulder like and soaking the soil within seconds, it had done little for the sticky august heat. Even after so many years, the feel of heavy air pressed against his skin, feels like Nassau; it is the only time James longs for the sea. Some days he half imagines he can still hear the cry of a gull on the horizon, heralding a morning breeze. 

‘Yes, probably,’ Thomas says. He runs a finger through the the crop of James’ hair, just long enough for Thomas to twist around his thumb. ‘Happy birthday, by the way.’ 

James shuts his eyes, pushing his knee into Thomas. 

‘I though we’d agreed not to mention that.’

‘Psh, you can’t escape it forever, old man,’ Thomas teases, pressing a kiss to the crown of James’ head. 

The door creaks open, and James feels the press of a second body settling against his back, the unmistakable dull thud of Silver’s crutch hitting the stone floor. Although they very much share their lives together, they don’t sleep together often; Silver prefers his own space, and besides, the bed is hardly big enough. 

‘Who are we calling an old man?’ Silver says, in a way that somehow already implicates James. James sighs without much real feeling, he hadn’t actually believed they’d let the day pass unnoticed. Silver pats his shoulder sympathetically. 

‘Oh, just you wait. You’ll be this ancient one day.’ James turns to lace his fingers through Silver’s. 

‘Not for a long, long time,’ Silver mocks playfully. Thomas laughs, pulling on James’ hair. 

‘Did you only come here to taunt an old man,’ James says, ‘or are you going to make him get his own breakfast too?’

‘Oh! Thomas says, leaning around to glance at Silver. They seem to have a whole conversation with a flash of their eyes over James’ head, which he would be insulted by, if it weren’t endearing. 

‘One second,’ Thomas says, and suddenly the heat of his skin is missing, ‘don’t go anywhere.’ 

Silver presses a kiss to James’ jawline, and then another to the side of his lips, and if James had had any thought of going anywhere it is gone now. He hardly notices Thomas leave and then re-enter the room; he’s too distracted by Silver’s tongue flicking deftly against his lips, just enough to promise more. 

Eventually it’s the smell of lemons drifting across the room, bright and sugary, that pulls James away, curiosity and a grumble from his stomach getting the better of him.

‘What did you - ’

Thomas answer’s James’s question before he even finishes answering it by holding out a square of soft, sticky cake to his lips. James takes it, teeth scraping over the tip of his thumb. Thomas holds it to James’ lips as he chews, the suddenly familiar flavour so unmistakable. He stares at Thomas. 

‘Is this –’

Thomas nods. 

‘How did you – did you bake this?

‘It was a joint effort. I asked around in the town for recipes but Silver did most of the actual cooking.’

‘You did what?!’ James turns to Silver, an old horror turning his words to shock.

Silver shrugs. ‘It turns out it isn’t that hard, once you have instructions.’ 

James huffs out an exasperated laugh, ‘You’re only learning this now.’ 

‘Here,’ Thomas says, ‘have some more.’

‘Wait, if I’m going to be poisoned by Silver’s cooking, you both are coming with me.’

There are crumbs scattered in the sheets by the time they’re finished feeding each other bites of the cake, the three of them wrapped around each other in a tangle of limbs and sweet, sticky fingers. 

‘Do you remember,’ Thomas starts, and James does; even if they hadn’t traded this story between them, back and forth over the years, James would remember. 

Except this time it isn’t James or Thomas who tells it, but Silver, painting the words as if he’d watched it all, from the other side of the room, as if he knows what Thomas’ lips had tasted like, coated in sugar and lemon and crumbs, pressed against James’ on the hard floor of his apartment. 

James still doesn’t know how Thomas found out when his birthday was, nor where he got the pound cake from. 

By the time Silver lapses into silence, the sun is casting morning shards of pale gold light across the stone, and James knows there are animals to be fed, crops to be watered. Except, just for a moment, he stretches out against the sheets and lets memories of sweet, sticky fingers, a splintering wooden floor, and Thomas sighing, just a little too loudly into in mouth, wash over him

Behind him Silver’s arm wraps around his stomach as Thomas leans forward, threads his fingers through Silver’s, and catches James’ lips against his own, fingers sticky against James’ jaw as they pull him closer.

**Author's Note:**

> Ooh boy she’s back at it again with the black sails...


End file.
